


Let's Get These Terrible AUs Started

by dovingbird



Series: AUs [1]
Category: Game Grumps, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Protomen
Genre: AUs, Amnesia, Angst, Aromantic Characters, Drinking, Drugs, F/M, Ficlets, M/M, Multi, Prostitution, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-04 21:04:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3089645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dovingbird/pseuds/dovingbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of ficlets based around answering prompts on my Tumblr. Chapters are divided by ficlet and pairings are clearly marked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Egobang, Celebrity/Fan AU

He’s pretty used to it by now, the heat of the stage lights and the swell of the crowd’s screams, all that jazz, but he still takes a certain pleasure in it. Interacting with the crowd, for example, getting to draw attention to those that catch his eye or make him smile, it makes Dan feel as fizzy and light as a balloon.

He takes a second between songs to gulp down around half a bottle of water, and he scans the crowd as he does so. There’s a number of hilarious posters held high over their heads as usual, and some that he’s seen a million times before - “You can bang my sex” has probably been at every single concert he’s ever done - but then there’s one that makes him spit his entire mouthful of water all over the first three rows.

It’s an incredibly detailed drawing in what looks like several colors of Sharpie that involves him, in Danny Sexbang garb, straddling and flying on a dick-shaped rocket straight toward a vagina made of stars, with Ninja Brian watching disapprovingly in a nearby sun.

It’s ridiculous. And it’s absolutely amazing.

"Dude! Dude, you, with the thing, the, uh, the poster thing, the- yeah, you! With the blond streak in your hair! Bring that closer, c’mon, bring it up the aisle right here, I just-"

The dude dutifully carries it toward the stage as requested, and Danny squats at the edge of it, ignoring the shrieking people that crowd around him.

"C’mon, let him through, guys, I just wanna-"

They do, at least, are kind enough to do that, and Danny grins from ear to ear when the guy slides the poster flat onto the stage for him to admire. “Are you kidding me? Seriously?”

The guy grins up at him, rakes a hand through his hair and shrugs. “I mean, it just seemed fitting, like-“

"I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything that quite captures my life goals. Ever. Fucking hell."

"You like it?"

"Duh!"

The guy laughs. “You should have it, then.” His eyes are sparkling and he looks way too confident for his own good, for somebody that took probably hours to draw this perfectly with markers to give it to some guy he’s obviously a fan of. “Hang it in your bedroom, put it on the side of your tour bus-“

"Make it the album art for our next thing?" Dan grins at him.

That’s what makes him falter, and his eyes widen. “Dude.”

"You think I’m kidding?"

"I-I-"

"What’s your name?"

"Uh, Arin!"

"Arin. Cool." He leans the microphone away so they can’t be picked up, slides a card out of his pocket and into his hand. "Call that number, leave a message, my guys’ll contact you."

He’s actually pretty freaking cute when he’s grinning like that, cheeks flushed and almost bouncing where he stands. “Okay, I’ll, uh, I’ll do that.”

Heck, maybe he’ll bypass using his guys and just talk to him himself. The idea sounds better every passing minute through the rest of the concert.


	2. Egoflapbang, Waking Up With Amnesia

It’s just a prank that goes wrong, it really is, but that doesn’t change the fact that it happened. Doesn’t change the fact that Arin’s been unconscious for almost twenty-six hours now, that he’s stable but just…not waking up.

Suzy hasn’t slept. Neither has Dan. And while Suzy, as Arin’s spouse, was allowed to stay by his side after regular visiting hours concluded, Dan was left to pace their bedroom for all hours of the night. He’s just the boyfriend, after all, and there was no way in hell that the hospital staff were going to listen to that, no matter how liberal California is.

He’s waiting in the lobby for regular visiting hours to start, though, two cups of highly doctored coffee in hand, and the second the clock ticks over and the nurse gives him the go-ahead he’s in the room.

"Anything?" he asks, and Suzy tiredly lifts her head from where her eyelids were starting to droop as she rested on her arm.

She shakes her head, though gratefully takes the coffee. “They say he could wake up at any second, but…trauma like that, it just, he could be out for another day or more, they just don’t know, they don’t fucking-“

"Shh." He kneels beside her, lets her bury her eyes in his shoulder. He can be strong. He can. He knows exactly how she’s feeling, would do anything to take it away. "We’ll be here when he does, okay? We will." Danny presses kiss after kiss to her temple, smooths her hair until he feels her grow weak and silent again, arms loose around his shoulders.

He helps her out of the chair, sits down and lets her crawl in his lap. They sip their coffee in silence, and his phone buzzes a few minutes later, Barry texting to ask if he and Kevin are good to visit yet.

He’s getting ready to text back, to ask if they can give him and Suzy just another hour or two more to stabilize, when there’s a soft intake of breath from the bed.

Both pairs of eyes snap to Arin’s face, to his fluttering eyelashes, to the movement of his eyes beneath them. “Do you think-“

"I don’t-"

And then he blearily opens his eyes, blinks a few times, and an outright sob escapes Suzy’s mouth as she scrambles to the bed. Dan actually drops his coffee on the floor, but he doesn’t give a shit, not if he can hold Arin’s hand again. “Arin?”

"Arin, are you…can you hear us?"

Suzy has the presence of mind to press the button to summon a nurse, but Arin is staring at them with furrowed brow, shifting uncomfortably. He’s been laying there for over a day straight without moving, so it’s no surprise that he’s a little stiff, but…

Arin tries to sit up, winces, lays back down again. But he’s not happy to see them, is he? Dan swallows hard. “Arin, can you speak? Are you-“

"I…" Arin coughs. He clears his throat and grunts. "Where am I?"

"The hospital," Suzy replies. She squeezes his hand, then looks up as the nurse bustles in. "He’s awake, look, he’s okay, he’s-"

Arin weakly tugs his hand out of her grasp, blinking a few more times. Does the same with Danny. “I…who are…”

The nurse starts checking his vital signs, pulls out a penlight to shine in his eyes.

"Who are you guys? Where am I?" Arin’s voice is gravely from disuse, and it barely even sounds like him.

It can’t be him, Danny finds himself starting to think in a panic, if he doesn’t have any fucking clue who they are.


	3. Dramione, Waking Up With Amnesia

Hermione likes to think she’s a strong woman, she really does, but the second she walks into Scrivenshaft’s and sees a blond head of hair attached to extremely fine wizarding robes she highly considers walking right back out into Hogsmeade and apparating elsewhere to pick up the stationary she needs. Just the sight of Draco Malfoy, just the smell of his too-strong cologne, can still turn her stomach, can send her back in time a number of years over and over again to see an endless chain of events that made her feel no better than the dirt on the bottom of his shoes.

She hovers in the doorway for a few seconds, annoyed by his very presence, agitated by the grumbling of two wizards just off to the side and how they’re getting louder and louder with each passing, but no, she can just…she’s an adult. She’s bloody Hermione Granger, and she’s not a child anymore, just had her twenty-second birthday a few days ago, and if she can’t pick up stationary to pen thank-you notes for her birthday gifts while in the same store with someone who doesn’t even deserve her time of day, then what _can_ she do?

So Hermione lifts her chin proudly and strides straight toward the aisle two down from where he’s studying an extremely fancy quill, because that’s what Gryffindors do.

She’s taken only five steps when the two arguing wizards start firing spells.

In a second she’s back at the Battle of Hogwarts, wand in hand, arm perfectly in form, whirling around to survey the damage, to see how lethal the spells being thrown are, before she throws off two Stupefys of her own. It’s over in seconds, but the damage from the two wizards is done - shelves are thrown this way and that, people have been pushed over from the aftershocks of their spells, and there’s even three unconscious people collapsed in heaps.

"Call a mediwizard," Hermione snaps toward the scared-looking cashier, all business, tall and composed and even, and takes quick, unseeing steps toward the nearest person laid out on the floor. She comes to a halt when she catches sight of his face - _"Filthy little mudblood-" "They’ll be the first to go-" "Got your bed booked in the hospital wing-"_ \- blinks rapidly to clear away the fog.

_Just…make sure he isn’t dead._

She kneels down and lifts her wand to cast a diagnostic charm, and his eyes blearily open as she’s looking over the results. “Took a nasty fall there, Ferret,” she murmurs. He’s not going to frighten her. He’s nothing, he’s just…

He doesn’t respond, though, simply stares at her, looking more confused by the second. Some of the results of the spell are a little troubling, and she casts another more in-depth one to decipher them further.

"Can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?" And yes, she’s slightly immature, holds up her first two fingers with her palm facing herself, but he still doesn’t respond, is just…

"…I think I know you, don’t I?" he finally asks softly.

Hermione doesn’t respond, clenches her teeth tightly as she starts gently moving her wand to highlight the results she sees. It’s just…not possible that-

"Did we go to school together, maybe?" he asks. It’s odd hearing his voice when he’s not sneering, when he’s just… "Durmstrang, yes? Were you a year under me, maybe?"

"Bloody hell." She murmurs it dryly - the effect of living with Ron, probably - as she sees vivid passages from her days studying healing charms coming up before her eyes. Amnesia. The spell that wizard cast, the hot pink one, it causes amnesia, temporary or otherwise. "We went to Hogwarts, Malfoy, not…Durmstrang."

"Are you sure? Because I…" He tries to sit up, and Hermione reaches on instinct to settle him back into place.

"Lay still," she says softly, "you have a concussion, and it’s possible that…" She trails off when she realizes he isn’t sneering, isn’t pulling away from her hand. "…Merlin, you really don’t remember, do you?"

"Remember what?" he asks, tilting his head to the side, rubbing gently at his temple with a wince.

"Remember the…" She drops her voice to a murmur. "…the mudblood Granger?"

He flinches, looking even more confused, even mildly exasperated. “Do you often use language like that? Merlin, that’s not…really…”

"Do you know who you are?" she interrupts, and she’s still being sharp, maybe even snippier before because no, this isn’t how he is, he’s not…he’s evil through and through, and every second she spends with him like this is making something inside of her twist and panic.

"I’ve…shit, I don’t have a clue, did I get hit with something?"

Fuck, this is going to be messy.


	4. Light/Wily, Meeting At A Party Whilst Drunk

Light thinks, as he sips at his third cosmo of the night, that this is possibly the first time he’s ever actually been drunk. Those frozen things he had before, for example, they’d tasted more like fruit juice than anything, but maybe it was a bad idea, maybe it just…

…was he thinking something just then? He lost track of the sentence, maybe.

Still, this is a time to celebrate, isn’t it? He’s in his third year in the university, surrounded by his fellow robotics students, and they’ve just received a generous check to further fund their program, and, not only that, but he himself received an honorable mention in a robotics publication the other day for his experimental work?

Can anything get better than this, really?

He’s making his way to the makeshift bar to offer his empty glass, maybe get some water, but that’s before a weight suddenly settles on his shoulders, and he almost falls over before he catches himself, turns his head very slowly to see what it is.

It’s a smirking man - or, rather, he’s pretty sure it’s a man, because the eyelashes are so long and there’s maybe a touch of eyeliner to highlight how dark his eyes are, and…oh, really, who is he to assume it’s a man at all?

"You’re Light, right?" the person asks. "Thomas Light?"

Is he? He thinks for a second. “…I am.”

"Nice. I knew you had to be. You’re the whole reason my father actually decided to pledge some money to the uni, you know that? God fucking bless." The person tilts the shot back that they’re working at, drains it all in a second. "See, I’m a bit of a black sheep myself, but-"

"Sorry, who are you?" Because Light’s never been good with strangers, and even now he’s feeling a little shy.

"Oh, Albert Wily, bastard only son of the Wilys, maybe you’ve heard of us?"

He has. Well, at least he has his name now, so he won’t be a stranger. Makes perfect logical sense to Light. “I do. You’re all very rich.”

"Yes, I suppose so." Wily plucks another shot from a passing tray, leads Light toward the wall even as they’re both stumbling. "Still, robotics? My father thought I was crazy for wanting to study that, right? Like, who does that? Thought all of you were hacks. But he read your results and liked you work, and bam, suddenly we’ve got twice the funding. Fucking God bless." He holds up the shot to toast Light, realizes he doesn’t have anything, shrugs and drinks anyway. "I’m a freshman, you see, but I really like your ideas, think they’ve got some potential."

"Oh, do you?" He blinks.

"Yep. If you’re lucky they might end up as good as mine. Here, you’re drunk off your ass, lean against this wall so you don’t fall over."

Wily’s stumbling too, but Light just shrugs, goes with it. He blinks a few more times when Wily props himself up an inch or two away from his body with a hand on the wall. “Do you, umm…want to…talk about robots?”

"Shit, I thought you’d never ask."


	5. Rubberbang, Meeting At A Festival

Okay, look, it’s one thing to be an exuberant fan at a music festival, and it’s completely another to have your entire body painted up in celebration of them. That takes dedication.

Danny considers that as he takes a drink of water from his bottle, then pours the rest over his head. There’s someone getting some food in the break between bands, and it looks like all he’s wearing is some booty shorts, not that there’s much booty to expose, with the rest of him painted to be the living embodiment of the next band’s most popular album covers.

He also may or may not have an extremely adorable crooked smile, but that’s neither here nor there.

Dan wanders over out of camaraderie and plants himself next to the bench that the guy’s claimed with his corndog. “Hey.”

He looks up. “Hi.”

"Nice, uh. Outfit?"

He grins wider, tosses his damp and sweaty hair out of his eyes. “Thanks, man. You a fan?”

"I guess." He shrugs. "I mean, they’ve got great technique, but their lyrics have always been a little lost on me and all." He chuckles. "I assume you’re like the greatest fan they’ve ever had ever? Because wow, that must’ve taken like a few hours to make perfect."

"Eh, not as bad as it could’ve been. It’s gonna be a bitch to get off, though." He takes another bite, then speaks ever so elegantly with his mouth full. "I’m the bassist’s cousin."

…right. “Oh, really?”

"Yep."

"Huh."

"You know their bonus track at the end of their fourth album, ‘Goddammit Ross’? All about me."

"They’re Australian."

"Mmm?"

"They’re Australian, though, aren’t they? Shouldn’t you have an accent?"

The guy looks at him smugly. “Don’t believe me?”

He shrugs. “Not really.”

"All right. Challenge accepted."

Danny blinks. “Challenge?”

"Yep. C’mon."

"I-I don’t remember making a challenge-"

"Sure you do, you want me to introduce you to the band, I get it, c’mon." He grabs Dan’s hand and starts cheerfully leading him away.

Danny glances this way and that, both confused and intrigued. “Do I need to start yelling that I need an adult?”

And he looks over his shoulder with another bright smile and waggles his eyebrows. “ _I’m_ an adult.”


	6. Egobang, Prostitute/Client

It’s a long, hard week that has Danny calling the business card in his hand that he found somewhere in Las Vegas, but even that doesn’t seem to completely excuse the fact that he’s hovering nervously over his counter and trying to figure out if it’s in good taste to offer the sex worker you hired for the evening a glass of wine before the main event comes into play.

He’s not ready when there’s a knock at the door, not in the slightest.

He opens it regardless, comes face-to-face with a guy who’s already smiling. “Hey. Danny?”

"Uh, yeah, that’s me."

"Can I come in?"

"Sure!" Wait, is that too enthusiastic? Fuck, he’s nervous. He holds the door open, though, lets the man walk in, shuts it behind him. "I’m Dan. I mean, uh-"

The guy glances over his shoulder as he shrugs off his coat. His hair is pulled back into a short ponytail, and the dark clothes he wears makes the blond highlight in his hair pop like a firework. “I’m Arin.” He says it with an easy tone, like Danny isn’t already making a fool of himself. “It’s nice to meet you, Dan.”

"Yeah, uh…nice to meet you too." He rubs the back of his neck, realizes that probably makes him look awkward as fuck, drops his hand just as quickly. "You look…I mean, you’re very…"

Arin grins again. “This your first time, Dan?”

"No, God no, I’ve had girlfriends and stuff in the past-"

He chuckles. “I mean…am I the first person you’ve ever hired?”

Oh. Right. He nods, cheeks flaming up. “Yeah, it’s just that I, like, I had this fucking miserable week, and it just…I was feeling sort of…” He laughs, all bubbly and nervous and shakes his head. “Shit, I sound like a fucking idiot, don’t I?”

"Dude, you’re nervous, calm down, it’s fine." And to his credit Arin really does look genuine when he says that, not like he’s quietly memorizing every bit of the night so he can laugh about it with his friends later on. "Everybody’s like this."

"Yeah?"

"Totally. Can I put my coat somewhere?"

"Oh yeah, shit, sure, lemme just…" He takes it from him, catches a whiff of his cologne, swears silently, and walks to his coat closet to hang it up.

He’s just turning back around when Arin makes a cheerful little sound and walks over to his TV. “Dude, is that a Wii U?”

"Uh…yeah, I-"

"What games do you have?"

Sudden turn of events? Should Danny maybe be upset about this, or…? “Like…all of them? Why, do you wanna play something?”

"I mean…" Arin glances up at him through his long eyelashes and grins. "We’ve got all night, don’t we?"

That probably shouldn’t make him spike a boner as fast as it does.


	7. Egobang, Trying to Get One of Them Off Drugs

It’s a hazy day today.

He’s pretty sure he eats at some point. He remembers a spoon being pressed into his hand, then taken away when he drops it, then small pieces of food being slid past his lips.

He doesn’t realize he’s shivering until there’s a cool, damp cloth gently mopping over his face.

"Danny."

He hears his name, yeah, but he hears it like he hears a passing car horn or the guitar player in the apartment upstairs.

"Danny."

There’s a sigh, he thinks.

He watches the shapes drift across the ceiling.

There’s a lot of gray today.

Maybe a little purple.

Maybe-

**SHIT**

fuck he’s clawing and scratching and shitshitfuck no okay this isn’t no nO

there’s a heavy blanket pressing down on him and he’s wait no Arin, Arin’s there, he realizes, Arin’s clinging to him like a fucking champ and holding him and he maybe doesn’t fucking care that Danny’s drawing actual blood down his shoulders from how hard he’s clinging back

but

shh

"Shh"

Danny whimpers, presses his forehead into Arin’s shoulder, wraps every limb he has around him.

"Shh Danny I’ve got you"

Arin’s gonna cry, he thinks, he’s fucking gonna cry.

How the fuck did it get to this?


	8. Egobang, Roommates AU

He’s actually really fucking obvious, that’s the thing.

They’ve only been living together for three months - matched up by a network connecting potential roommates together, actually - but Danny thinks that his biggest source of entertainment is Arin and the way that he clearly wants to bang the shit out of him.

It started small, sure, with Arin doing little things like just sitting too close to him on the couch, maybe making coy teasing statements about how his ass looked in his jeans that made Dan look at him for a few seconds too long trying to pick it apart, but it’s just escalated from there.

There’s the time where Arin conveniently forgot to wash most of his clothes for a week and spent the whole day in a towel after his shower, lounging around in almost dangerously obscene positions.

Or when Arin had some friends over and tried to goad Danny into playing Spin the Bottle with them and looked a little too pathetic when he said he had places to be that night, sorry.

Or when they were both bored out of their skulls and Arin suggested they play Twister.

Really, Arin? _Twister?_

It’s when they’re playing video games one night and waiting on a ridiculously long loading time that Danny decides to just…speak up. “You’re not that subtle, you know?”

"Mm?" Arin’s voice almost cracks just on that inquisitive sound alone.

"Like, yeah, it’s kind of cute how you’re running around trying to get my attention, but I don’t really…play that game?" He keeps his eyes on the screen, not yet ready to look Arin in the eye when he’s confronting him like this. "I don’t know, man, it just works better if you just tell me what you want."

Silence. The level loads, but Arin immediately pauses it. “…seriously?”

"Yeah?"

"Dude, this whole time I thought you were just dense as fuck. Or shy. I mean, you weren’t exactly giving me a sign that you…were interested?"

Dan shrugs, leans back and closes his eyes as he rustles a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well. I have my reasons.”

"So, uh…how straight are you, then?"

Dan grins, even laughs a little, and shakes his head. “Nah, it’s not that, seriously, dicks are pretty cool, I just.” This is where it gets a little hard. “I just don’t like…all the romantic stuff?”

It takes a minute for Arin to respond. “What do you mean?”

"Like, the dating thing, the relationship thing, the holding hands and shit thing, I just…I’ve never been into that. Never wanted it or craved it or whatever. So I don’t really…get into anything with anybody because they’re gonna want that eventually, know what I mean?"

"So you’re aromantic?"

He opens his eyes, pleasantly surprised that he knows the term. “Yeah, actually.”

Arin’s watching him rather neutrally, really. “Just sort of want a friend you can fuck sometimes?”

"Well, yeah, but that’s not really a thing I-"

"I’ll do it."

His eyes widen. “Seriously?”

"I mean, I don’t need that shit either. I just like hanging out with you." He smirks. "And you’re sort of hella hot, so."

Dan can’t help laughing at that, and it’s filled with relief. “I mean, you too.”

"So."

"…wanna fuck later?"

Arin shrugs. “Sure, I guess.” And his tone’s just dry enough to make Danny laugh again as they unpause the game and get down to beating the shit out of each other. Nothing better to get a little sexual tension growing than that.


End file.
